The Thirteenth Prince
by kajoqixuye
Summary: Hans wasn't born evil. But when you're thirteenth in line for the throne, and you're constantly ignored, set aside, and mistreated…it's not going to turn out well.
1. Born

**Happy first day of winter! And how better to kick this season off than with a Frozen story?**

**So, I'll admit, Hans is one of my all-time favorite Disney villains—and I thought it'd be interesting to explore his past a bit. Just a heads-up: he's gonna go through a lot of rough stuff as a kid (nothing _too _dark, though). And then, he'll become a diabolical schemer himself…**

**Obligatory disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Disney's _Frozen_, its characters, setting, plot, or any element of it.**

**-XIII-**

It was a tense time in the castle. Screams of pain had been coming from the infirmary at periodic intervals, loud enough for many of the inhabitants to hear and know what was going on. There had been numerous such instances like this before, and many of the servants and nobles had been there for every one of them. None had been pleasant to listen to—but at least with the earlier ones, there had been a sense of something good coming out of it. Now…not as much.

The door to the infirmary was closed, no one allowed in save for the king, the queen, and the doctors. Outside stood five people, all male. The first three were all in their late teens or early twenties, the fourth was thirteen, and the fifth was only eight. While the last two were staring at the door with concerned looks on their faces, the other three were less outwardly invested. One of them scowled. "Don't know why the hell they wanted to go through this again…" he said.

Another of the men gave him a reprimanding look, with a side glance at the two younger ones. "Come on, Jakob," said the first one with a snort. "They're gonna hear those words at some time or other."

"Then let us make sure they are not from their brothers, who are supposed to be setting an example," said Jakob.

"Oh, save your preachings for church. You can't boss me around; I'm only a year younger than you."

"I am still the crown prince. You will have a higher obligation to me one day, Fredrik."

Fredrik scowled again. "Birth doesn't mean anything."

"Says the number two in line out of soon-to-be thirteen," said the third young man. "You do rank above most of us."

Fredrik drew himself up. "Damn straight. And don't you forget it."

His language earned another reproachful glance from Jakob, but he ignored it. "Of course," said the third young man again, "you are still below Jakob."

Fredrik's face immediately went from proud to sour. "Why don't you keep your trap shut, Lukas?" he said. "Why are you even here? I thought you were too wrapped up with your numbers."

Lukas returned his brother's gaze, his demeanor still level. "She is our mother. She went through the same process with all of us. I thought it would be right to offer my support."

Jakob glanced from side to side. "Yes, a thought our other brothers should have expressed, as well. Less than half of us are present. This is reproachable."

Lukas gave a shrug. "A lot of them are still young. I'm surprised Gabriel showed up, actually."

Fredrik rolled his eyes. "He's the goody-two-shoes of the family. Of course he'd be here."

The youngest boy had glanced over to his three eldest brothers, but at Fredrik's words, he turned away again. Jakob shook his head. "Learn to control yourself, Fredrik."

"What for? You're the one who's getting built up to become king, not me."

"You are still a man of high position. We need to set examples, all of us."

Fredrik gave another snort. "Tell that to the seven of us who aren't here."

Jakob's eyes hardened. "I shall."

Lukas's impassive expression did not change. "The youngest probably don't fully understand this…"

"They should be here nonetheless. And the older ones have no excuse. After today, I'm going to make a point of talking to Jan and Adam about fulfilling their duties."

"They probably won't listen, though," said Lukas. "Jan's focus lies elsewhere, and Adam cares about these things less than all of us."

"I've noticed," said Jakob, his countenance still hard. "Which is what I intend to change."

Lukas did not seem optimistic. "Good luck."

Jakob fell silent, though a look of disapproval remained on his face.

Another scream came from behind the door. The eyes of the eight-year-old, Gabriel, widened in concern, and, a second later, so did those of the thirteen-year-old.

Fredrik scoffed at the sight. "Stefan's got a lot to learn about sucking up," he said, though he did keep his voice low. "C'mon, don't try to deny it," he said, as Jakob gave him yet another look. "He's always trying to be the favorite. I think he's gonna try to usurp you someday."

Jakob raised an eyebrow. "Then he has a lot to learn about how succession goes in this kingdom."

"Like I said."

The brothers lapsed back into silence for a moment. "How much longer is this gonna take?" said Fredrik.

"However much longer it has to," said his older brother.

"Thanks, now I know exactly how much longer we're gonna have to stand here waiting for yet another member to be added to our already-huge family."

"He will be a brother of ours, Fredrik."

"Aleksander is our brother, too, but look at what he's shaping up to be."

"He's barely a year old. You can't say how he's going to turn out."

"Maybe I've got a sense for this sort of thing."

"Right," said Lukas dryly, nodding. "And you were the one who was convinced that Erik would be something of a social butterfly."

"Okay, first off, I was, like, ten years younger then."

"Nine."

"Whatever. Second, he was a happy baby, remember? You would've guessed the same thing."

Lukas shrugged and said nothing.

A few seconds later, Gabriel walked over to them. "Is Mommy gonna be all right?"

"Yeah, is she?" said Stefan, also walking over and stepping in front of his younger brother.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," said Jakob calmly. "She's done this many times before. The doctors will see to it that she and the baby are all right."

"Well, when will we get to see her?" said Stefan.

"I doubt it will be much longer. She's been in there for a while, and this usually doesn't take too long."

Stefan returned to his post, and Gabriel followed, though more slowly.

Despite Jakob's words, however, it was almost another hour before a nurse opened the door and said they could come in.

* * *

><p>Doctor Harald of the Southern Isles had known the queen for nearly all her life, and so had assisted in each one of her now-thirteen births. The first few had brought joy to his heart, like it had the king and queen, to see another healthy boy join the royal family. The last few, however, had felt more like a burden than anything else. The queen had been almost constantly in a bad mood during her pregnancies, and seemed to have screamed more during the births themselves—especially this last one, which was the longest Harald could remember. As such, the royal couple paid less and less attention to their younger sons, who were no longer the little bundles of joy that the older ones had been. In fact, when he had made sure that this one, the youngest, was healthy and had handed it to the queen, she had looked right up at the king and said, "We're never doing this again," to which he nodded.<p>

Harald forced back a sigh, and felt a stab of pity as he looked down at the baby's face, who was still crying. If this child had been born into another family, he might get the appropriate care for a young boy—but as the thirteenth in line for the throne, there would be few who would be willing to pay attention to him.

He turned at the sound of the door opening, and stepped back to allow the princes to come over. Surprisingly, there were only five: the eldest Jakob was there, of course, as was the compassionate Gabriel, but the only other three that accompanied them were Fredrik, Lukas, and Stefan. Harald frowned, and wondered, not for the first time, why the king and queen had decided on having such a big family; the other brothers most likely did not think that another sibling was worth their time. On the other hand, he doubted Jakob, Fredrik, and Lukas were present out of concern for their new brother. Aside from a handful of exceptions, the brothers' relationships weren't that strong.

Stefan was the first to reach his mother's bed, pushing Gabriel out of the way. "Mom, are you all right?" he asked.

The queen nodded wearily. "I will be fine, thank you."

Stefan drew himself up as Gabriel approached the bed, looking at his new brother. "What are you gonna name him, Mommy?"

The queen glanced over at the king, who looked back with a blank look. "We'll name him…Hans," said the queen, clearly picking a name out of the blue. It was a fairly basic name, and didn't suggest a whole lot of thought. But, it was the name the young prince would have. Perhaps he would make it famous one day—though that was highly unlikely, Harald thought.

Jakob stepped forward, towering over Stefan and Gabriel. "I am glad to hear you are doing well, Mother," he said, his air of formality present as always.

"Thank you, Jakob," she said. She looked over at Fredrik. "Fredrik, call the nursemaid, will you?"

Fredrik didn't look delighted at the prospect of running his mother's errand, but nodded and walked away.

Almost immediately, the queen began to converse, mainly with the king and Jakob, about some of the pressing issues facing the kingdom at the moment, almost entirely ignoring the baby in her arms. Harald forced back another sigh. He knew what was coming. Hans would be handed off to a nursemaid, who, along with another couple of appointed servants of the castle, would be responsible for his upbringing for several years. He would see his brothers and parents on occasion (most likely more the former than the latter), but he would be taught the doings of the castle largely by people who weren't related to him, who didn't have the family connection. Truth be told, it all worried Harald. Spending so much time away from your family, without a strong figure to love and care for you (unless one of the servants or the nursemaid took a particular liking to you, which didn't always happen)—it didn't seem a healthy way to grow up. He often worried about the princes—while some seemed to be doing fine, like Gabriel, others didn't look like they would turn out so well, like Stefan.

He could only hope that Hans's future would not be too marred.

**-XIII-**

**A good deal more to come, naturally. If you've got any thoughts, I'd love to hear them.**


	2. Unrecognized

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update; my life's gotten a bit more hectic, so I haven't been able to devote as much time to my stories. But I've got a fair amount of this story written, so I promise more frequent updates from now on.**

**-XIII-**

"Hans, get back over here this instant!"

The four-year-old brown-haired prince had to conceal his laughter as he listened to the stomps and shouts of his caretaker, Josef, who passed his hiding spot a few seconds later. "Hans, I mean it. Your father is not going to be happy about this…"

Sure, he would. Hans was planning on paying a surprise visit to his father, who was often too busy to check in on his youngest son. Whenever Hans had asked about him, Josef had told him to wait; the king would see Hans when he had the time. But Hans was tired of waiting—and he was sure that his father would be happy to see him, even if just for a minute. So, Hans had decided to take matters into his own hands, and seek out the king on his own.

He listened for Josef's footsteps to fade away, then dashed out and ran off one of the other hallways. He had only been in the area of the castle a couple times, but he had a good memory of his surroundings, and so knew the way to go to get to the part of the castle where his father was most likely to be. He had to stop and hide a couple of times when he heard people coming, but on one instance, he made no such attempt, for it was two of his brothers that he heard coming. He hadn't seen his brothers very often, but he remembered who they were—well, most of them, anyway. He had twelve; it wasn't all that easy.

His two brothers came into view, and he recognized Jakob, the oldest, and Fredrik, the second-oldest. "You checking out the ladies again today?" said Fredrik.

Jakob raised an eyebrow. "I am not 'checking them out,' Fredrik. It is important for me to find someone suitable to be queen alongside me one day. It is a process that requires delicate care and attention."

"How about that Elin? She's a prize to be had."

"She seems a little too…quick-tempered for my taste."

"Well, maybe I'll end up taking her, then."

"Perhaps you will."

They hadn't noticed him yet, so Hans spoke up. "Hi, guys!"

Both brothers turned to look down at him. Fredrik's eyes narrowed, and Jakob raised his eyebrows slightly. "Hans. Aren't you supposed to be with Josef?"

"Uh…not right now."

"Really?" His tone was skeptical.

Fredrik waved a hand. "Let it go, Jakob. What does it matter?"

"It matters for our brother to be conducting himself properly as a prince of the Southern Isles."

Hans didn't like the way the conversation was going, so he changed the subject. "What were you guys talking about before?"

"None of your business," said Fredrik.

"Is Jakob gonna get married? Can I come to the wedding?"

Jakob did not look like he wanted to continue the conversation. "When the time comes, you will most certainly be able to come to the wedding."

"Great! When is it?"

"That remains to be seen. Now, if you will excuse us…"

He and Fredrik walked off. "Make sure Josef knows where you are, Hans," said Jakob before he disappeared from sight.

Hans didn't pay attention to that. He was going to find his father, and the longer Josef couldn't find him, the better.

He dashed along the hallway, making sure to keep his ears alert for any sign of other people walking around—or his dad, in one of the surrounding rooms. But, as he became more focused on listening for the king, he became less attuned to other people walking around, and almost ran directly into someone else, coming in the opposite direction. "Whoa, there," said the man.

Hans looked up. It was Doctor Harald, a middle-aged man who was one of the most important doctors in the castle (so he'd been told), and, from his experience, one of the nicest people in the castle. "Hi," said Hans, then ran off, hoping he wouldn't be followed. Much as he liked the doctor, he didn't want someone else to find out he was supposed to be with Josef. Unfortunately, he could hear Harald calling to him, asking him where his caretaker was. Then, he started coming after Hans, telling him to slow down.

_Uh-oh. _Hans had to hurry. He quickened his pace, listening intently at each of the doors. Then, as he was passing one of the castle's conference rooms, he stopped in his tracks and perked his head up. That…that was his dad! From right behind the door. He pressed his ear up against the wood and listened. "…as an appropriate congratulatory gift," the king was saying.

"Will they not see it as an affront that it is so late?" said another voice. "It has been nearly two years."

"The king and queen of Arendelle have always been reasonable," said the king. "And news does not always travel very fast. I'm sure they will understand that it has been difficult to acknowledge the birth of their daughter until now."

Hans had heard enough. Taking a breath, he reached up and opened the door. As he pushed it open, he bounded into the room, unable to hold back his smile. Nearly every other face in the room turned to him, but he was only interested in one. As he looked over at his father, at the head of the large table in the room, he expected his look of delight to be mirrored.

But it was not. It was not joy upon seeing his youngest son that his father's face displayed. Nor was it disapproval at having interrupted the meeting—which would have been better than what his face _did_ show. Anything would have been better than what his face did show.

He was looking at Hans with a perplexed expression. But it wasn't perplexed in the sense that he didn't know what to make of Hans being there. It was almost as if…as if he didn't know who Hans was. As if he didn't recognize his own son.

Hans's smile quickly dropped off of his face as he stared at his father's expression. This couldn't be right. He was the king, a great man! Surely he knew and loved all of his sons! Why was he looking at Hans like this?

"Hans!"

Hans flinched upon hearing the voice of Josef behind him, and, before he could turn around, he felt a hand grab his wrist. "Your Majesty, I sincerely apologize," said Josef. "I'm afraid he slipped away from me for a moment and found himself here. It will not happen again."

The king nodded. "Erm, yes, see that it does not."

He did not look at Hans. But Hans looked at him as Josef dragged him out of the room, looking for a sign of recognition, of love, of _anything_. All in vain.

Harald, standing outside the door, caught Josef's eye as he and Hans left the room. "Oh, good, you found him," he said in his deep voice. "I was beginning to worry about him running around unsupervised."

Josef's face darkened. "As well you should. If this is the kind of behavior he exhibits when I am not around…"

"Oh, go easy on him. He's just a kid; he'll learn."

"Yes, but to learn, he must be taught." And with that, the caretaker marched Hans away, leaving Harald looking slightly concerned but unable to further interfere.

Josef pulled Hans along the castle corridors for a couple minutes before, when he judged they were sufficiently far away, turning to Hans with a furious look on his face. "What were you thinking?" he demanded. "You _cannot_ interrupt the king like that. _Never._"

Hans felt very small. "I…I wanted to see my dad…"

Josef shook his head. "There is a time and place for everything, Prince Hans. You will learn to _wait_ for the appropriate situation before acting. This behavior was inexcusable, and you will not do it again."

His words stung—but Hans had been reprimanded before, and the feeling had worn off after a little bit. But he knew that that sight of his father would never wear off. "Does…does he love me?" he asked.

Josef frowned. "What?"

"Does my dad love me?"

"Why on earth would you ask something like that?"

"He…he didn't look like he knew who I was…"

Josef's eyes narrowed. Then, he said, almost dismissively, "Of course he does, Prince Hans. Don't ask such things. Now, come."

He dragged the young prince off to whatever he had to do next; Hans didn't always pay attention to these kinds of things. And that day especially, he did not focus at all on what was going on, his father's face still burned into his mind. Josef had said that his father loved him…but if he really loved Hans, he would have reacted differently in the conference room. Hans wasn't sure what the truth was. As such, Josef scolded him several times that day for not being attentive, visibly getting more and more frustrated until, finally, he dismissed the young prince to his room until dinnertime, muttering under his breath, "There's no way they pay me enough for this…"

Hans heard him, and the comment made him more upset than he would have thought. He was used to Josef getting angry with him, but he had become more sensitive after the incident with his father. Unexpectedly, he burst into tears and ran back to his room, slamming the door behind him when he entered.

This was all wrong! Josef shouldn't be treating him like this—he was a prince, after all—but his father's actions were even worse. Why had he not acted like he recognized his son, and why had he not even looked at him when dismissing Josef? To Hans, it was an act of betrayal…one his four-year-old self could barely handle.

* * *

><p>It was in that way that Prince Hans's heart began to freeze. For several days after the incident, he expected his father, his mother, or even one of his brothers to come and comfort him about it, or even tell him off. But no one did. It was if it never happened. And when Hans saw his father next, the king cordially acknowledged him, making no reference to the fact that Hans had disturbed his meeting. Almost as if he had forgotten about it.<p>

So Hans's attitude towards his father changed. He became less of a hero in Hans's eyes, and more someone who wasn't where he should be, which was beside his children. Slowly, Hans began to develop resentment for the king, now nothing more than a neglectful old man. He was still nice enough to his father, but the air of reverence with which he had previously addressed him was gone. They treated each other with politeness, but little more. Certainly nothing resembling a close father-son relationship.

That part of his life—that illusion that he had entertained for four years—was over.


	3. Set Aside

Hans tugged at the collar of his outfit. It was three things that irritated him: hot, tight, and itchy. He wondered if Josef had made him wear it out of secret disdain for the young prince—but didn't pursue those thoughts very far. This was, after all, a happy occasion.

He recalled the conversation between Jakob and Fredrik that he had heard a little less than a year previously, about Jakob finding someone to be queen with him one day. Well, that day had come: Jakob had finally selected a woman of high birth named Cathrine to be his wife. She had accepted his proposal, of course, and now was the day of their wedding, for which many members of the kingdom had gathered. In the front row, looking quite pleased, were the king and queen. Hans felt a familiar hand squeezing his heart as he looked as his father, and turned away quickly. He was several rows behind them, being the thirteenth prince, but he was at the edge, and so could look down the aisle to see them. Right beside him was Josef, putting on an air of happiness that felt fake to Hans, and beside him was the twelfth prince, Aleksander.

Hans was glad that Josef was between him and Aleksander, as his elder brother by one year liked to push Hans around whenever the two of them were together, and Hans couldn't quite figure out why. Sure, he was the only prince younger than Aleksander, but why did Aleksander need someone to push around in the first place?

Directly in front of Hans was Valentin, the ninth prince, seven years older than Hans. He, at least, didn't get a kick out of mistreating Hans, but he did always treat him with disdain, and, in fact, never seemed like he wanted to be around him. Rather, from what Hans had seen and heard, Valentin preferred to spend time with the servants and other people of the lower class. Some of the nobles grumbled at this, but no one paid it too much heed.

Hans looked around, taking the opportunity to lay eyes on his brothers. All of them were there, including Jan, whose focus was often on his own projects rather than the goings-on of the family; Adam, who was often too lazy to attend these events; and Erik, who was usually off somewhere on his own, or with his caretaker, Maximilian. Hans didn't have a whole lot of opportunities to see all of his brothers—including Jakob, who was almost as busy as their parents (though he at least _recognized_ Hans whenever the two saw each other).

Jakob was, at the moment, standing up at the altar, his face a careful combination of dignity and happiness. Hans didn't quite understand why he wasn't looking ecstatic; he was getting married, wasn't he? Wasn't this supposed to be the happiest moment in someone's life? He was only five, but he imagined that, at his wedding day, he would hardly be able to contain himself.

Suddenly, the music changed, and everyone got to their feet. Hans did so, as well, though he was a second too late, which earned him a poke on the shoulder from Josef. Everyone also turned their heads to look down the aisle, and Hans figured he should, too.

Cathrine was slowly making her way towards the altar, clad in a long white dress, a white veil covering her face. Arm-in-arm with her was an older man, which confused Hans at first—why was someone else walking arm-in-arm with her if she was marrying Jakob? "Who's that?" he asked Josef quietly, pointing, but his caretaker only frowned and shushed him.

When Cathrine reached the altar, the older man let go of her with a smile at Jakob, who nodded politely back. He made his way to the front pew where he joined a middle-aged woman who was dabbing at her face with a handkerchief. Noticing the resemblance to Cathrine, Hans guessed that was her mother—which made the older man who had been leading her down the aisle her father. Was that the way weddings worked? He wondered why.

But now wasn't the time to think about that. He turned his face back to the altar, grinning widely as he listened to the priest speak the required words. And then some more. And then everyone sang a song. And then more people spoke. And then another song.

Hans began to get bored. Why did a wedding take so long? Was all of this really necessary? Couldn't they just get married? That was what everyone was waiting for. Why make them wait so much?

Hans's mind began to drift, and he looked around. Josef was still staring attentively at the front, while next to him, Aleksander was restlessly shifting in his seat, his own caretaker trying to push him down with a hand on his shoulder. Even further down the pew, the next two princes, Simon and Klaus, were whispering to each other, despite the continued attempts of their caretakers to quiet them. _See? I'm right,_ Hans thought. _People don't wanna sit here for this long. We wanna see Jakob actually get married!_

Although some of the older brothers were managing to sit still. Gabriel had shifted a few times in his seat, but no more than necessary, and had had a straight posture for most of the ceremony. Erik didn't look entirely comfortable, but had barely moved or said a word the entire time. Even Adam wasn't too slouched, and actually seemed to be somewhat invested in what was happening.

Then, everyone bowed their heads, and Hans realized that the priest was saying a prayer. He quickly put his own head down, not wanting another telling-off from Josef. His caretaker had been less patient with him ever since the incident with his father.

Finally, there came the part when the pair said their "I do"s. Hans perked up, knowing enough about weddings to realize that this meant that it was almost over—and that Jakob was almost truly married. Then, they put on their wedding rings, the priest pronounced them man and wife, and everyone broke into applause as the newly-wed couple exchanged a quick kiss (which the five-year-old prince had to avert his eyes for). Hans cheered loudly as Jakob and Cathrine made their way back down the aisle—but was interrupted once more by Josef, shaking his head at him. Hans felt deflated for a moment, but perked up again at the thought of seeing his brother at the reception afterwards. Jakob wasn't like their father; he'd be happy to see Hans.

He hoped.

* * *

><p>The sheer size of the crowd at the reception made it very difficult to get anywhere—and, unfortunately, Josef made sure to have a hand on Hans's shoulder at all times. To add to the young prince's frustration, there was a line that had to be followed that consisted of seeing the king and queen, then Cathrine's parents, and <em>then<em> Jakob and Cathrine themselves. He had to wait, watching as his twelve older brothers (and the younger one's caretakers) went before him, some of them saying more than others. "Why does all of this have to take so long?" said Hans.

"Be patient," said Josef curtly. "You must learn to wait. It is part of what a prince must do."

Hans frowned and folded his arms. Patience was not something that came easily to a five-year-old. But he could do nothing but wait and shuffle forward as the others expressed their congratulations. Finally, they reached the king and queen—though Hans hadn't been looking forward to that very much. Already the queen was looking tired, and after Josef had given them his heartiest congratulations, she didn't seem to have the energy to do anything other than smile weakly at her youngest son and say, "Hello, Hans."

"Hi, Mom," he said.

Then he moved onto the king, who greeted his youngest son similarly—though Hans's response was cooler than the one he had given his mother. Then he and Josef stepped forward again, and he found himself in front of Cathrine's parents, who, in contrast to the king and queen, were full of energy. And, even better, when Hans and Josef stepped in front of them, they turned their attention to the prince first. "And you must be Jakob's youngest brother," said Cathrine's mother. "What's your name?"

"Hans."

"Hans, what a nice name! I'm Birgit, and this is my husband Otto."

Next to her, the man who had led Cathrine down the aisle gave Hans a friendly smile. "Good to meet you, Prince Hans."

Hans smiled back. He liked these people.

Josef gave a small bow, though Hans could see he wasn't thrilled at being left second. The thought gave him a little grin. "It is an honor to meet you. I am Josef, caretaker to Prince Hans."

"Oh, the pleasure is ours," Birgit insisted, shaking his hand.

"Caretaker, huh?" said Otto, glancing at Hans. "Hope you aren't giving him too much of a hard time, Prince Hans."

He laughed, but Hans frowned. What did that mean? Did these people want to reprimand him, too?

Fortunately, Birgit noticed his confusion and stepped in quickly. "Don't worry, Prince Hans. My husband was only joking; we're sure you're perfectly well-behaved."

"Oh…okay." He saw Josef twitch out of the corner of his eye at the words "perfectly well-behaved," and fought back the urge to give him a glare. He behaved himself a lot of the time, didn't he?

Birgit looked at the queue of people behind Hans. "Well, we probably shouldn't keep everyone waiting…but it was lovely to meet you, Prince Hans. I hope we'll be seeing more of you soon!"

"Thanks!"

Hans and Josef took another few steps forward. "I like them," said Hans.

Josef looked like he had conflicting feelings on the issue. "They were…certainly very nice."

Hans turned to face forward. "Look! There's Jakob!"

And before Josef could stop him, Hans had rushed forward and threw his arms around his oldest brother. "Hi, Jakob!"

"Oh…hello, Hans," said Jakob, putting a hand on Hans's head.

Josef rushed forward and pulled Hans back. "I apologize, Prince Jakob."

Jakob looked taken aback for another instant before he replaced it with his usual formality. "It is of no concern." He gestured to the woman at his side. "May I present Princess Cathrine, my wife?"

Hans wasn't quite sure what he meant—he and Josef had met Cathrine once before, after she and Jakob had gotten engaged. But she dropped into a curtsey with a small smile on her face, and Josef said, "I am honored, Princess Cathrine."

She was a princess now, wasn't she? But more importantly, she was Hans's new sister. He started forward to give her a hug, too…until he was stopped by a restraining hand on his shoulder. But it wasn't Josef who was holding him back. It was Jakob, who was looking down at his youngest brother with a look of disapproval.

Hans was confused…and a little hurt. Why couldn't he greet Cathrine like that? Wasn't she part of the family now? What was improper about showing affection to your family? Why was Jakob looking at him like that?

A beat passed, and then Jakob looked over to Hans's left. "Lord Ulrik. A pleasure to see you."

He and Cathrine turned their attention over to the next set of people—signifying that Hans's audience with them was over. Placing a hand on his back, Josef steered the young prince away to make room for other people. "I wanted to see him for longer!" said Hans.

"Your brother and his wife have much to do," said Josef. "You'll have to see them some other time."

"When?"

"I don't know, Prince Hans. Now come."

* * *

><p>Going off of Josef's words, Hans kept his eyes and ears open for another opportunity to see his oldest brother; now that his faith in his father was gone, Jakob was the closest thing to a positive father figure that Hans had (Josef didn't qualify; he seemed to not understand the concept of being a good person). But Josef wasn't kidding when he said that Jakob and Cathrine had much to do; Hans didn't see them at all for a couple weeks after their wedding, and after that, when he did see them, it was either briefly in passing or when they were surrounded by a lot of other people engaged in some important-looking discussion (or both). He tried to be patient, reminding himself that it was what a prince had to do…but he didn't want to be patient. He wanted to see Jakob as soon as possible!<p>

Finally, he got his chance, one day almost a month after the wedding, when he saw Jakob walking, by himself, in the hallway. "Hi, Jakob!" he said, running up to his older brother.

Jakob barely glanced at him. "Hello, Hans."

He kept walking, and Hans had to jog to keep up with him. "Where are you going?"

"To meet some acquaintances of Cathrine's. We are going to discuss certain measures to take in order to improve—"

"That doesn't sound too interesting. Do you want to play with me?"

Jakob stopped walking, his brow creased. "What?"

"We never hang out much. Do you wanna do something?"

Blinking, Jakob shook his head, and resumed walking. "I cannot, Hans. I have a lot of business that I must attend to."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. Why don't you ask one of our other brothers?"

"They're busy." Hans hadn't actually checked in with them…but a little lie couldn't hurt if it got his brother to spend time with him.

Unfortunately, it did not. "Well, then you'll have to find some other way to entertain yourself."

"Oh." Hans didn't try to conceal his disappointment. "Do you know when you'll be able to?"

"To do what?"

"Play with me."

"I do not. Like I said, there is much business that requires my attention. It is my duty to put that before anything else."

Hans blinked. "Anything?"

"Yes. Now, if there is nothing more, I must be on my way."

And he quickened his pace, leaving his younger brother standing alone in the hall.

* * *

><p>Hans was in low spirits as he returned to his room. He had hoped that Jakob would be happy to spend time with him, or at least see him—but those hopes had been crushed. Jakob had displayed no enthusiasm upon seeing him. Almost the opposite, in fact; he had seemed like he just wanted to shake Hans off as soon as possible. Was that really how he felt towards him? He <em>had<em> always been a little like that in the past…but now he had just told Hans that his number one priority was his duty as crown prince. Not personal enjoyment, not friends, not family.

Not Hans.

He felt the pain stab his heart—and then it hardened. Jakob was just like their father. Wasn't he always carrying himself around like a king, preparing for the day when he would take the throne himself? Sure, he knew who Hans was, but he didn't really care. Evidently, thirteenth in line wasn't important enough for him to concern himself with. Even his wife's friends, who weren't even royals or blood relatives, ranked higher than Hans did. Well…was that just because he was so young?

That didn't matter. Hans should still be important. He should be worth more than a few callous passing comments. No, Jakob, like their father, was no hero. He was no ideal role model. He was a self-absorbed, unfeeling wannabe king. How had Cathrine ever agreed to marry him? Probably just because of his status, and the appeal of becoming queen one day. Was that really how things worked? You married for power and duty, not love?

Maybe it was.


	4. Bullied

**A/N: Just a heads-up—this chapter does contain some violence.**

**-XIII-**

A year after Jakob's wedding, the next two eldest princes, Fredrik and Lukas, jumped on the bandwagon and got married, too—Fredrik to a woman named Elin and Lukas to a woman named Marie. Both brides were five years the junior of their husbands, which Hans found mildly perplexing at first—it would be like him marrying someone who was one now. But maybe that was another thing to marriage that he was missing. After seeing both couples, neither of which looked as happy together as he might have imagined, he became convinced that marriage was, at least some of the time, not an act of love. Did that mean people didn't always find someone to love? That those stories and fairy tales where the princess always found her prince were nothing more than fantastic yarns spun for entertainment, and had no grounds in reality? It was a depressing thought for a six-year-old, and so Hans tried not to dwell on it…but it remained in the back of his mind.

A couple of weeks later, the news came that Elin was pregnant—which, according to some of the talk Hans heard, wasn't supposed to happen. At least, not until it had happened to Cathrine. There were a couple of people who blamed Fredrik and Elin for not being careful enough (whatever that meant), but there was nothing to be done about it. Hans would have sought out Fredrik to congratulate him, but two things held him back. One, if the news wasn't all good, then Fredrik might not be looking for congratulations. And two, he was learning that his brothers didn't always want to hear from him. Sometimes, at least, it was better to leave them alone.

About a year passed, and Elin gave birth to a girl, who was named Rebekka. Again, not everyone seemed satisfied with this, Fredrik included—something about it being a girl instead of a boy. But at least Cathrine was pregnant now. It took a lot of the attention away from Rebekka's birth—which seemed to anger Fredrik even more, based on the times Hans saw him in the castle, storming by and muttering. Once, Hans made the mistake of talking to him, and was roughly shoved into the wall in response, earning him several bruises. After that, he made sure to get out of the way whenever he heard his second brother coming.

The same went for Jakob, too. After the news of Cathrine's pregnancy broke, he was often surrounded by well-wishers, and looked rather pleased. No longer eager to encounter his oldest brother again, especially not when he came off as pretty smug, Hans began to evade him, only directly interacting with Jakob when Josef escorted him to go congratulate the expecting couple (which he noticed his caretaker had not done when Elin became pregnant). Now that his opinion of Jakob had plummeted, though, Hans said little more than a carefully delivered few words. To his dismay, that seemed to please the others more than an enthusiastic, genuinely caring statement. It was as if they weren't really family. So Hans forced his feelings down and kept his mask on, something that seemed to be important in this castle. And something that he found that he was learning to do.

But not all the time. There were instances when there was no way that he could remain calm and collected, continue to be the well-behaved prince that everyone wanted him to be. Like what happened one day, a few weeks after Hans turned eight years old…

* * *

><p>It was a winter afternoon, and Hans was in a playful mood. Afternoons like this were for going out in the snow and having fun, even if you did sometimes have to be calm and collected while doing so.<p>

At least, that was what he thought. His brothers didn't seem to think the same. After telling Josef that he was going out to the courtyard, Hans set about asking the others if they wanted to join him…and it did not go well.

First, he asked Klaus and Simon, who were studying something or other in the library. When they rebuffed his invitation to go outside, he became curious about the book they were poring over, and tried to get a look at it. "What are you doing?" asked Simon.

"Just looking. What are you reading?"

Simon frowned. "None of your business. Go away."

"I can't read it, too?"

Both brothers glared at him, and he hung his head and slunk away. It wasn't too surprising that Simon and Klaus had been doing something on their own; as the only pair of twins among the princes, they had a closer bond than most of the others. Fortunately, though, his spirits were revived upon looking outside again and thinking that maybe another one of his brothers would like to go outside. Valentin was next—but he was no more eager than Simon and Klaus (albeit a little less unkind). And Hans couldn't find Gabriel or Erik anywhere. As for his other brothers, they were either too old for him to expect an affirmative response…or they were Aleksander, whom Hans had learned to stay away from. The twelfth prince's treatment of his younger brother had not improved over time, and Hans could remember instances when he had come away from an encounter between them with bruises that took days to heal. Aleksander's idea of playing in the snow most likely involved shoving Hans into a snowbank or tripping him on a frozen lake. So, after Hans had finished looking for Erik (unsurprised that he couldn't find him), he decided that he could have fun on his own, and went into the castle courtyard by himself.

He amused himself for a little over a half hour by making snowmen and imagining them as his subjects, a favorite activity of the prince who didn't have anyone looking up to him. Eventually, though, it became too cold for him, and with no one else around him to make the snow more fun, he decided to go back in, kicking his snowmen over and turning around. But he had only gone a few steps before he heard someone walking up to him from the side, and, a second later, a voice.

"Hello, Hans."

Hans flinched and looked over. Standing next to him, with the look of a predator gazing at its prey, was Aleksander. "What?" said Hans, his mood instantly soured.

"What were you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Playing with snowmen?"

"I said, nothing."

Aleksander grinned. "They're the only friends you'll ever have, you know."

"Shut up," Hans snarled, his self-control already slipping.

"You mad because it's true?"

"I said shut up!"

Aleksander sneered. "You're gonna be alone forever. Nobody likes you…"

"Nobody likes you, either," Hans snapped.

A flash of anger was visible in his brother's eyes. "At least I'm not last in line for the throne. Last in importance, last in people anyone cares about…"

Hans had heard a lot of this before, but it didn't stop his blood boiling when he heard it again. Not trusting himself to keep his cool, he stormed off.

"Hey, Hans!"

On instinct, Hans turned around upon hearing his name…and had just enough time to see the snowball before it smashed into his face. He gasped and stumbled back, face stinging. Raising a gloved hand to his face, he wiped the snow away and glared at his older brother, who was smirking back. "Weakling," he taunted.

"Jerk!" Hans yelled back.

In response, Aleksander hurled another snowball at him, which also hit him in the face. But this one had a piece of ice in it, which broke Hans's skin, leaving a small cut. Whether or not it was intentional, Hans didn't know. But at that moment, it didn't matter. That was the last straw. Not bothering to clear the snow from his face, he ran at Aleksander, yelling in fury. Aleksander blinked, taken aback for a second, and that allowed Hans to tackle him to the ground. His brother was taller than he was, but that wasn't going to stop Hans…and besides, on the ground, everyone was the same height. Raising a fist, he drove it into his brother's cheek, and before Aleksander had time to recover, Hans struck again, this time hitting him in the eye.

"Hans!"

Hans recognized the voice, but was too overcome with rage to pay attention to it, and continued his assault until he was forcefully pulled away. "Hans, what are you _doing?_"

He turned his angered face to Josef, who was looking down at him with a mixture of lividness and horror. "He hit me with a snowball."

"That's no excuse—"

"He cut me! Look!" Hans pointed to the slightly-bleeding wound on his face.

Josef shook his head. "That doesn't matter. You cannot—"

"Doesn't matter? He hurt me! Don't you ca—"

"Hans, do not interrupt me!"

"Don't interrupt _me_! I'm a prince, and you're just a lowly caretaker!" At the word "caretaker," he shoved Josef backward—which, since he was just an eight-year-old boy, wasn't with a whole lot of strength.

But it did the job. Josef was forced back, and his expression took on a fury that Hans had never seen before. And before he could register what was happening, his caretaker had raised a hand and brought it down on Hans's face.

Hans recoiled from the blow, his hand on his cheek. It took him a second to process what had just happened. Josef had just _hit_ him. Josef, the man who was always on him about following proper protocol, had just abused a member of the royal family. Hans didn't know what the exact details were…but he did know that such an action could not go unpunished.

Josef seemed to realize this, too, and Hans could see him trying to keep back the fear of what might happen to him now. "Hans…"

But Hans was already gone. He was going to tell someone, whoever he could find. Even someone like Jakob or the king couldn't let this go unnoticed.

A sense of vengeful satisfaction rose up in Hans as he raced through the castle halls. Josef had treated him terribly all his life, and now, he was going to get what was coming to him.

He ran along, heading for the part of the castle that the higher-ups frequented, ignoring the sounds of Josef running along behind him. And, a few minutes later, he found his father standing on a carpeted staircase, addressing a few other richly-dressed people. Hans's mind went back to the last time he had caught his father in the middle of meeting with a bunch of other important people…but this was different. He wasn't interrupting just for a surprise visit, he was interrupting to tell his father about something important. "Dad!" he called.

He saw his father stiffen slightly, but he did not turn to him. Some of the others did, but they were not the ones that Hans was talking to. "Da—" Hans began, then stopped himself. "Father!"

The king seemed to give in as he turned to Hans. "Yes?"

Well, at least this time he wasn't acting like he didn't know who Hans was. The others were, maybe…but they weren't the ones who were going to act on this.

"Your Majesty!"

Josef had joined them. At his presence, the king seemed to pay more attention. "Is something the matter?"

Hans didn't give Josef a chance to speak. "Josef struck me just now!"

The king blinked. "What?"

Hans narrowed his eyes. He had spoken clearly enough. "We got into a disagreement, and he hit me."

"He…hit you?"

"Yes." How had this guy become king, again?

Josef spoke up. "Your Majesty, Hans was attacking Prince Aleksander. When I tried to separate them, he turned his aggression to me, and I reacted on instinct."

The king's cold eyes fell upon Hans again. "Is this true?"

"No! Well, I did push him, but he completely overreacted!"

"But you did push him."

Hans stomped his foot. "That's not the point! The point is—"

"The point is that I am king and you are not, Hans," said his father firmly. "And Josef has proven himself to be a hard worker before now."

"No he—"

"Hans, do not interrupt."

Hans froze, the king's words echoes of Josef's own minutes before. "I will let it slide," he continued. "But Josef, do try to control yourself."

Josef bowed so low Hans thought he would lose his balance and fall forward. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Now if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to. Do not interrupt me like this again, Hans."

He turned back to the people before him, who had been trying to ignore the whole situation for the past minute. Before Hans could say anything, Josef took his arm and led him away.

Hans looked up at his caretaker, eyes full of hatred. "I will not forget this," he snarled.

Josef said nothing, staring straight ahead, stone-faced.

* * *

><p>It took a long time for Hans to cool off from those events. He was beyond furious at his father for treating him like just a naughty child, instead of someone who had been physically abused. And he would never forgive Josef for his actions. They may have been done in the spur of the moment, but it didn't take much to see that Josef detested the young prince, and Hans didn't doubt that, if he could, Josef would use corporal punishment more often. On a prince of the Southern Isles!<p>

Yet that title seemed to count for nothing. Not when he was number thirteen. In the king's eyes, at least, the thirteenth prince—his own son—was worth less than a caretaker, someone of the servant class. How did the castle function with things this incredibly backward?

Aleksander was right. No one cared about Hans.

Instead of feeling sad, though, Hans could only feel angry. This was nothing short of a betrayal on the part of the royal family and those who worked for them—if you could call them a family. Families actually cared about each other. He remembered Cathrine's parents (who, unfortunately, he had barely seen since Jakob's wedding), and how they had looked genuinely happy to see their daughter married. The king and queen hadn't even seemed that happy at Jakob's wedding, and he was their first son, due to inherit the throne one day! Did they actually care about _any_ of their children? These thoughts actually made Hans shake with fury.

There was one satisfying thing that came out of what had happened, though. Aleksander, though he would still taunt and bully Hans, did so much less often, especially physically. Hans could almost see a spark of fear in his eyes whenever they would pass, and would remember the black eye he had given him in the courtyard on a snowy day.

He was moving up the line. If Aleksander began to fear him, Hans would become superior, no longer the one who was most cast aside.

He could become greater than he was now. He could gain respect from people. Violence had worked against Aleksander…but it probably wouldn't be a universal solution, especially since it had harmed other people's perceptions of him. Still, if he could rise above his brother…that meant there were other possibilities.

He just had to wait for the right ones to present themselves.


	5. Ignored

Soon after Hans's encounter with Aleksander, and after word of what had happened spread through the castle, a new development arose concerning three of his other brothers. First, Lukas would not answer Hans whenever they passed each other and Hans voiced a greeting. He would just walk briskly by, as if no one had spoken. This was mildly perplexing…but Hans tried not to let it bother him. Lukas was probably giving him the silent treatment for his behavior.

Then Jan began doing the same thing. Again, Hans was not too taken aback, especially given Jan's rather haughty nature. But when Stefan became the third to act that way, Hans began to get concerned. Was everyone going to start ignoring him now? Just because of one thing that he had done? Maybe he wasn't rising above Aleksander at all, if this was the response to it…

But none of his other brothers followed suit—though this may have been partly because Hans was seeing less of them, after Fredrik, Elin, and Rebekka had moved out of the castle and into a large nearby estate, where Fredrik could better cover his main duties of overseeing the kingdom's military and raising his family. Hans wondered if Fredrik would have treated him similarly…but didn't spend too much time on it. Fredrik's opinion of him was not at the top of Hans's list of concerns.

At first, Hans didn't react to being ignored, and just ignored the three of them back. But after a couple of months, it began to bother him. This went beyond anything he might have done to Aleksander or Josef. It was as if these three had decided that he simply wasn't worth any of their time or attention, like it had been a thought of theirs for a long time and they were just deciding to act upon it.

And it hurt him. He wasn't sure why; surely he was used to being ignored and mistreated by now? But apparently he wasn't. He found himself desperate for their attention, even if it was something negative. So he thought of ways to disturb them.

First was Lukas, the oldest of the three. For him, Hans at first tried following him around and speaking loudly to him, doing annoying voices, or even trying to gross him out (he tried picking his nose and eating his boogers once, an experience that he was not eager to repeat). But Lukas did not react—at least, not to him directly. One day, when Lukas was walking and talking with Lord Axel, one of the more good-natured nobles who frequented the castle, Hans came up behind them and tried calling his third-oldest brother again. "Lukas! I wanna show you something."

Unsurprisingly, there was no response. "Lukas! Lukas!"

Lord Axel looked amusedly at the third prince. "I believe you have someone seeking your attention, Prince Lukas."

"I know of no such person," said Lukas coolly. "However, I would hope that, if there was someone relentlessly following me, he would know to stop soon…lest I become angry." He angled his face so that he wasn't looking at Hans, but so Hans could see his expression. "And I am _not_ pleasant when I am angry."

His dark countenance, combined with the unmistakable threat in his voice, made Hans slow down. Lukas wouldn't really hurt him or anything…would he?

He had no ready answer. Lukas had always been hard to read, often distant and aloof, and seemed to have become even more so after his marriage. Hans doubted he would actually cause him physical harm…but that didn't mean he was incapable of retaliation. So, fear driving him back, he stopped pestering Lukas.

But he wasn't done trying to get his brothers to acknowledge him. Next in line was Jan. Jan was very artistic, Hans knew, and was often in his room working on some project or other, either independently or related to architecture, which he oversaw in the kingdom. Hans at first thought that he could try to disturb him while he was working on something—but Jan always made sure to lock his door, so the only thing Hans could do was pound on the door and yell, which either hurt his fist and his voice or drew the attention of other people in the castle, who led him away from the door and scolded him for making such a racket. And that wasn't what Hans was going for; he wasn't trying to get their attention; he was trying to get Jan's.

But the fourth prince never reacted to Hans at his door, not even to yell at him to be quiet. So Hans thought of other ways, similar to what he had done with Lukas. He tried stepping in front of him whenever he saw him in the castle, but Jan would casually sidestep him and continue on, not even looking down. He tried making degrading comments to Jan's face, but they had no effect, and, upon reflection, Hans supposed that they might only serve to increase Jan's antagonism towards him, and cause the artistic prince to prolong ignoring his youngest brother. If he was to get Jan's attention and make him react, it had to either be something nice to get rid of that antagonism, or something _really_ bad so that he couldn't help but respond.

A couple of years ago, he probably would have gone with the first option. Now, he was less inclined to do so. He had seen too many signs that few (if any) people cared about him, and nice gestures didn't always get attention. Well, except in the case of Gabriel. As the eighth prince, Gabriel didn't have a whole lot of power, but he had a calm and kind demeanor, and Hans had noticed that nearly everyone who spoke to him did so brightly. Still, no one else seemed to have that kind of effect.

…But that was because no one else was as outwardly nice as Gabriel. Hans did have recollections of Stefan behaving very well, but a year or two ago, he had suddenly become more sullen, and a lot less cheerful. Was kindness really the key here? Of course, it might not work for him personally—he was the very last prince, and had noticed that many people didn't pay him much heed.

That, and his inclination towards being nice to his brothers wasn't very strong nowadays.

So Hans kept his eyes out for something that he could do that would have to get Jan's attention…no matter what it was. And it didn't take too long to find. By eavesdropping on palace conversations (something he was finding that he was good at), he learned that Jan was working on an especially important project, for the king himself, no less. Something that could be the fourth prince's crowning achievement. Something that must have had to do with the large rolls of paper Hans had seen Jan carrying around recently.

Something that would surely suffer if anything were to happen to those papers.

Hans had it figured out: he would find a spot that Jan was likely to pass by, grab a bucket of water, and wait. Then, when he passed by with those important papers, Hans would throw the water on him. He would _have_ to take notice of that.

He put the plan into action as quickly as possible, seizing on one opportunity when he was free of Josef and running to get a bucket of water, as big as he could carry. No one paid him much attention—but this time, he didn't want them to. Not yet, at least. Soon, people would notice. They'd be angry, sure…but after being ignored for about three months by almost a quarter of his family, he'd take angry.

Unfortunately for him, he had underestimated the amount of work it would take to haul a bucket full of water as far as he needed it to go. As he carried it through the halls, he could feel the strain on his arms, and his breathing grew heavier. Several times he had to pause and set his load down, wait until he felt he was ready to go again, and then lift the bucket once more.

Then, he came to the staircase. There was only one staircase on his route (which he had thought out beforehand), and it was towards the end. Once he made it over, he'd be almost there, to the point where he remembered having seen Jan several times before. Grunting, he ascended the first stair, then the second. It was even harder carrying the bucket when he was going up—but he was determined not to stop. He could see this through to the end.

It was those thoughts that would prove to be his undoing. As he kept going, his control over the bucket lessened, and it began to swing in his grasp, lightly at first, then harder. Drops of water fell out, falling onto the stone steps. Then, more drops followed, until, finally, enough to form a small puddle spilled…right below his feet. As he pushed down on his feet to climb to the next step, he felt himself slipping, and before he knew it, he was falling down the stairs. He barely had time for a cry of surprise before pain shot through his body, coming from his head, shoulders, arms…all over. The bucket, meanwhile, had fallen out of his hands and dropped its contents entirely, and now followed him on his journey to the bottom of the stairs.

Finally, his fall stopped, and he lay still, trying to deal with the pain. His head was pounding, and his arm felt like it had sustained notable damage. Groaning, he tried to get up, but he felt like he would start crying if he did—and Hans was determined not to cry (at least, not in public), leaving him with little choice but to wait until he felt good enough to rise.

But that brought its own share of consequences—something that Hans might have even chosen crying over. Soon after his fall, he heard footsteps, and turned his head to see two people at the top of the staircase. He relaxed slightly, hoping that he could get some assistance; even if he had no real friends in the castle, they wouldn't ignore him entirely.

A thought struck him. _Unless…_

His heart sunk as he saw that it was Jan, important papers in hand, and Adam who were descending the staircase. But even they would have to stop and make sure their brother was okay, right? Especially Adam; _he_ wasn't pretending like Hans didn't exist.

And Adam did glance over to Hans, sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs. "Uh, Jan?" he said. "Should we…y'know…"

Jan gave no response, other than making sure he didn't step in the water. He just walked right past Hans, not even glancing in his direction. And with a shrug, Adam followed him.

Hans could have hit them, and probably would have, if he could move. As such, he was forced to force back his anger, though he did let out a noise that was something between a grunt and a screech, aimed at Jan's retreating figure. But his brothers were soon gone from sight, leaving Hans right where he was before.

He tried moving again. Maybe he could get up now…

Pain shot through him, bringing tears to his eyes, and after a couple seconds, he gave up and fell back down. Sniffing and wiping the tears away, he tried to think of another way out of this, but found that his thoughts were consumed by hatred. Jan couldn't be human, to act like how he did. This was not caring about Hans on a level that he had never seen before. And Adam wasn't much better; he had acknowledged Hans on the staircase, but had done absolutely nothing. How could he be related to such terrible people? They _couldn't_ share any of the same genes.

Come to think of it, couldn't that apply to all of his family? They were all horrible, as they had proven to him time and time again. And what about Lukas and Stefan, who were doing the same ignoring that Jan was? Would they have walked right by him on the staircase, too? He was sure they would.

But just as he began hoping that the castle would collapse and bury them all, he heard a voice. "Hans?"

He looked up. It was Gabriel, prince number eight—and though Hans almost felt ashamed for it, he was glad to see him. Gabriel had always been compassionate. He…_he_ couldn't let Hans down, could he?

Gabriel knelt down by him. "What happened to you?"

"I fell."

"Yeah, I guess you did. Are you okay?"

Hans couldn't even lie and say yes. He shook his head. "Do you think you can get up?" Another shake of the head. "Do you want me to get help?"

Get help…like Hans was an important person? He couldn't resist, and nodded. "Okay, just give me a minute," said Gabriel. "I'll go get Doctor Harald."

He ran off, and Hans felt another surge of comfort. Doctor Harald had always been good to him, too. He was pretty old, but nice.

It seemed like a long time before Gabriel came back, and Hans had just started to wonder if he had forgotten about him. But Gabriel was a better person than Jan. Or Jakob, or the king, or any of his other family members. With him was Doctor Harald, who immediately knelt down next to Hans and began asking questions. "What happened?"

"I fell down the stairs."

"How?"

"I was carrying the water and it spilled."

Harald glanced over to the empty bucket for a second. "Where did you fall from?"

Hans raised a hand and pointed, and Harald winced. "That's quite a fall. Does anything hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

Hans indicated the spots that hurt the most, and Harald inspected them, gently testing them with his fingers and pulling away as soon as Hans winced in pain. "Do you think you can sit up?"

Hans considered it. He did feel less pain than before… "Maybe."

"Let's try it."

With the doctor's guidance, Hans found that he could, indeed, raise himself into a sitting position. Once he had, Harald looked him over some more. "Well, it does look like it was a bit of a nasty fall," he said, "but you should be okay as long as you take it easy." He straightened up. "Get back to your room and take the rest of today and tomorrow off. Doctor's orders."

Gabriel helped Hans to his feet, and after thanking the good-natured doctor, they started back to Hans's room, Gabriel making sure to support his younger brother. As they walked, Hans felt his anger begin to dissipate. Even if Jan and Adam were terrible people, at least there were guys like Gabriel and Harald, the former of whom made sure that he was safely returned to his room and comfortably set up before going off to inform Josef of the situation. Hans doubted that the caretaker would show him too much concern, but at least he wouldn't pester Hans about any duties for two days. And any break from Josef was warmly welcomed.

* * *

><p>Soon, Hans found out that things were actually better than a reprieve from Josef—it was almost as if he had traded Josef for Gabriel. The eighth prince stopped in on Hans several times each day, making sure that he was feeling okay, asking him if he needed anything, and sometimes just wanting to spend time with him. Despite the pain and soreness Hans was feeling, he could easily say that those two days were some of the best he could remember.<p>

And even after he recovered and had to return to his normal routine, things continued to pick up. He saw Gabriel more frequently, and whenever he did, the eighth prince seemed to take an interest in Hans, always greeting him brightly, and sometimes even conversing and playing with him. He became a bright spot in Hans's life of darkness.

Of course, he wasn't enough to completely counter everything else. Lukas, Jan, and Stefan continued to pretend he didn't exist, and Jan and Stefan especially managed to do it particularly venomously, sometimes even plowing right into him in the halls, and always ignoring the angry words that followed. "They're all jerks," Hans growled one day when he was talking to Gabriel.

"They're not being very considerate," Gabriel agreed. "But I'm sure it'll pass."

Hans hoped so. There wasn't much else he could do at the time. He would have to continue to enjoy the time of peace that had been given to him…and hope that it would last.

He didn't know what he would do if he were to lose the only comfort he had received from other people.


End file.
